Forgiveness
by Lily Martin
Summary: Sark fic, on a pick up mission for the Covenant he sees someone he remembers from the past, brining back old memories. Oneshot, but I might do a sequel if bugged enough...lol...rr


**Forgiveness  
by Lily Martin  
Rated G  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sark, or Sydney, or any of the other Alias things, J.J.Adams does and so does ABC, but I do own this ficlet, and Victoria Evens.  
Summary: Sark fic, on a pick up mission for the Covenant he sees someone he remembers from the past, brining back old memories.   
A/N: One shot, that's it, if you really bug me, maybe my friend will listen as I write a sequel.**  
  
He was in the club to pick up something for the Covenant. They weren't his first choice of employer, but they had come to a nice agreement: if he worked for them, he wouldn't be killed, and he'd get 50 million of the 800 million he'd had to give to them. Of course the 50 million he was getting would come in pieces, small pieces, but as he put it away with the rest of his 'nest egg' it made a nice sum for settling down with once he got the chance to get out.  
  
But that would be a long time away from the moment in the club, and he wasn't there half an hour early to think about what he'd do once he got out, no, he saved those thoughts for when he was alone with his thoughts. No, he was there half an hour earlier to make sure Sydney Bristow wasn't there, she'd been there at his last few pick ups, and he couldn't risk her being at this one, lest the Covenant become fed up with him.  
  
He was sitting at the bar, sipping at a scotch, no rocks, he didn't trust what could be _in_ the ice. Every now and then he'd glance out at the dance floor, Miss Bristow had a way of slipping in and making it look like she was part of a group on the floor. He needed to keep an eye out for her. All thoughts of his nemesis left his mind though this time when he looked at the floor.  
  
Dancing with a group of other women, friends he assumed, having known those of the female race to stick with familiar people on the dance floor, was someone from a memory, older, much older than he remembered her.  
  
She'd been a childhood friend, no, she'd never been a childhood friend, though he'd have liked to have called her that when he was younger. She'd been that girl few noticed, but he had one day. There was no clear reason why he'd noticed her that day, just someone he'd see out of the corner of his eye, a flash as he talked with his friends at lunch, more than likely making fun of whatever outcast had dared walk past their table.  
  
Most likely it had been her they'd been making fun of, it wasn't out of his style in his teenage years. He'd always known who she was back then, just enough to mock her, never enough to truly care about what pain he caused. She'd been the geek, the freak, the nerd, head always in her school books, or any book for that matter, always reading. Whenever she read, which was practically as often as she breathed he'd claimed once when making fun of her, she wore horrible reading glasses; glasses that practically covered her face and made her look almost like an insect or something.  
  
That one day though, she hadn't been wearing them when she passed him and his friends, but they hadn't seen what he'd seen. He wasn't stupid, never had been; his memory was photographic, and when he saw her pass, that picture was forever melded somewhere into his mind.  
  
Growing up, she'd always been tall and wiry, like the twigs or pencils his friends often compared her too. Her hair had always been messy, and her face plain. She wasn't a pretty girl that everyone noticed, but over time things had changed, and no one had noticed.   
  
Everyone had gone to the same schools with the same people for so long they saw everyone as they'd known them too look as children, and this made them blind to the change in Victoria Evens.  
  
She was still tall, yes, but she'd grown into her height, filling out, though not fat in any way. She'd developed like the other girls had, but it was easy to miss when she wore loose clothes and the other girls always wore shirts so tight it was impossible to miss. Her hair wasn't a mess, it was neatly pulled into a bun that made her look sophisticated, and her face wasn't really plain anymore, in filling out, the baby fat cheeks were gone, replaced by high, defined, cheek bones, full red lips that drew his attention, but not as much as her eyes, which weren't hidden behind her glasses when he saw her that day.  
  
Before they'd graduated, he'd attempted to make amends, but she'd done what he didn't fault her for doing, she'd struck out at him, leaving an ugly red hand print on his face, which didn't go away for several days. She didn't do anything else though, didn't say anything, just walked away, and he didn't try to make amends again.  
  
She'd disappeared the day after graduation, rumor had it she'd gone to study in the states. Those few times he went back and found everyone still there, she was the only one not there, the only one other than him to get out of the small town. Unlike him though, she had no reason to go back, he had his mother, while her parents had both died in a fire barely a year after the last time they'd stepped through the 'hallowed' halls of their secondary school.  
  
There she was now though, the last person he ever expected to see, the one person he went to high school that he even really cared to find out what their future had held. There had been a split second when he wasn't sure it was her, but she'd looked in his direction, not really seeing him as she moved, and those eyes he remembered, so clearly hers and only hers, flickered with a spark of something he'd never seen in them before, happiness.  
  
As the song ended, he saw Sydney Bristow out of the corner of his eye and followed her as she moved towards the back room, fully believing the object he was there to pick up was back there, but it wasn't. No, it wasn't where she'd expect it, and it wasn't her day today, it was his, and maybe his final chance.  
  
He glanced down, his scotch was gone, he didn't remember finishing it, but he'd been watching Victoria for so long, he probably had. He caught the bartender's attention and suddenly changed his order to a gin and tonic, which was brought to him almost immediately.  
  
_Almost_, there had been a small pause, when only the quickest, most watchful eye, and a photographic mind, would've seen the bartender slipping something small between the two napkins beneath his glass. The hand off was done the moment his drink was set in front of him, and the CIA would be none the wiser of his pick up.  
  
After downing the drink quickly, and slipping the tiny microchip into his wallet (doing so while he took out money to pay for his drinks), he looked around for Miss Evens and her friends, but they were no where to be seen. He wanted to think that maybe his eyes _had_ been playing tricks on him, but he knew better and continued keeping an eye out for her as he left.  
  
It wasn't until he stepped outside onto the main street that his eyes picked up the sight they'd been searching for. She was walking away from the club, most likely towards the other one further down the street, and if that was true, then it was truly his lucky night, as he was headed there himself for the final trade off, to pass the chip along to the covenant, maybe then, once business was done he'd have a chance to get that forgiveness he'd been waiting patiently for.  
  
End.  



End file.
